


Birthday Wish

by orphan_account



Series: la voix, c'est toi [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, M/M, Multi, NHL Players - Freeform, Rookie Bitty, birthday surprise, hockey injury, ptsd mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:10:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9721598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Stuck with a lower body injury, all Bitty wants for his birthday is his boyfriends home from their roadie





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RainbowLookingGlass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowLookingGlass/gifts).



> I was craving some PB&J so this is a little coda to the BPD Kent fic Que je suis, mon amour. I know Bitty's bday is in May so ankle surgery probably would take him out of playoffs completely, but let's just assume he might play in the last few games IF recovery went well. *shrug*
> 
> Warnings for mentions of homophobic comments by a family member, not written in detail.

Bitty’s always been a light sleeper. Playing in NCAA sports, and then in the NHL, it’s like a constant barrage of frat-boys doing stupid shit like drawing dicks on your face and filling your hand with whipped cream. Not all the time, but enough of the time, and Bitty’s learnt not to become the subject of online, social media ridicule—even if PR insists it makes the players seem more “human.”

Bitty’s got a bit of a reputation now anyway, being the boyfriend of Jack Zimmermann and Kent Parson, but that doesn’t always protect him.

All the same, tonight’s different. Because he’s emotionally wrung out and exhausted. He’s still in pain from the bad check, the ankle surgery not enough to take him out of the playoffs completely—probably, but enough that he’s on the last of his bed rest still, for his lower body injury for at least the next week or two. And he's definitely out of this roadie.

His boys are meant to be home Sunday, game last night—they won thank God, meaning both Kent and Jack will be in decent moods. Saturday they had an early skate, press, and Sunday the flight home.

But Saturday is Bitty’s birthday. Saturday he’s at home by himself with Kit, nursing cold take-away and re-runs of ANTM—because Kent would kill him if he started watching any of the new episodes. He’s had exactly two arguments over the phone with members of Coach’s family who are still trying to, “save his soul,” for both the unnatural lifestyle choice of being gay, and the unnatural lifestyle choice of being polyamorous. Never mind he wants to grab his shitty uncle by the shoulders and scream, “Y’all got no right to judge me when you and your wife are on your fourth marriage each!”

Because never mind his uncle had affair after affair. Never mind he skipped out in child support payments for damn near all his kids.

But he’s better than Bitty because he can find his way into a church pew once a month, and he apparently is living a “godly lifestyle” because the mistranslated bits of the Bible the preachers want to claim support god’s view of heterosexuality or…

Whatever.

Bitty has long-since stopped caring.

He wouldn’t have answered the phone if he hadn’t been paying attention to the TV instead of the screen. He just assumed it was his mama again or Jack and Kenny…or hell Tater even. Anyone but _them_.

He thinks it’s his own fault, even if he knows deep down he doesn’t deserve it. But he blames himself for not hanging up the moment he heard the dulcet, drawling tones of Paul Bittle.

Bitty doesn’t tell Jack or Kent about it, either. He just cries himself into a half doze, drags himself into a quick shower, then calls Kit to the bed so he can sleep and hopefully wake up to boyfriends, lattes, and maybe some baked goods from the little patisserie down the street.

All of that doesn’t define Bitty’s birthday, but it is why he’s sleeping far deeper than he normally would. It’s exactly why he doesn’t sit bolt upright in their bed with his phone at the ready to dial 9-11 because no one has a key but him, Jack, Kent, Tater, and Snowy—the latter four all on a damn roadie.

No. Bitty doesn’t sit up at all. He continues to snore lightly into Kent’s pillow, he continues to hug Jack’s pillow against his chest.

At least until the bedroom door opens and a voice croons, “Wakey wakey, babe!”

He’s rising to the surface as a body jumps on the bed, making it dip down, jostling Bitty into a half-state of wakefulness and panic. Instinct takes over—instinct back from a time when he had to anticipate an attack from shitty, homophobic boys in deserted high school corridors. He gropes for whatever he can find, closes his fingers round it, and starts hitting.

“Jesus…fuck…stop…I’m…” the attacker splutters. He’s reaching for Bitty’s wrists and Bitty just starts hitting harder.

A sort of dull, slapping thud on skin as the attacker fends of Bitty’s assault by…

“Babe, fucking Christ. Jack! Get in here and control your boy!”

Reality sets in and Bitty opens his grip and stops trying to bludgeon Kent to death. His eyes are barely open and bleary, but he can see little flecks of pink skin blooming on Kent’s forehead and cheeks. Between Kent’s thigh and Bitty’s is their large, blue-dyed, silicone dildo which had been apparently wedged under the pillow, forgotten until they got home.

Probably not meant to be used for this.

Kent’s rubbing his temple and Bitty’s staring, gaping like a fish.

He clears his throat. “What the heck are you doin’ here?”

“You mean in my own bedroom surprising my very own boyfriend?” Kent grumbles.

Bitty bites the inside of his cheek because he’s torn between crying and laughing. It’s hilarious, but he was also terrified and he can feel a sort of panic welling at the base of his spine. He takes a breath. “Y’all didn’t think maybe calling would have been a good idea?”

“Surprise?” Kent says lamely, mostly because it’s starting to become obvious what a mistake it was to try and surprise their boyfriend who still has PTSD. “Um. Shit. Fuck. Fucking…fuck. I’m sorry. It was…it’s your birthday and we thought…god we didn’t even think.”

Bitty’s hands are shaking but he gives in to the laughter instead of the tears and he drags Kent in for a kiss because really, he’s not that scared. Just startled. Their lips meet but not for long because he’s still giggling. “I’m sorry I uh…”

“Tried to beat me to death with Jack’s dick dildo?”

Bitty realises it was the one they got moulded after Jack as a gag-gift for Kent’s birthday. Right. Hah. “Um.”

Kent’s grinning though, and pressing soft kisses against the corners of Bitty’s mouth. “Happy birthday, you little shit. I can’t believe I was almost just murdered.”

Bitty gives up and falls over, giggling as the bedroom door opens and Jack walks in with a disgruntled Kit at his heels. Apparently beating Kent to death with a dildo left her less than pleased. Jack walks to the edge of the bed, taking in the giggling Bitty, Kent with the red marks on his face, the dildo between them, and he sighs.

“I don’t want to know.”

“Probably not. But I may need photo evidence,” Kent grouses.

Bitty reaches over, yanking Kent down to the bed with him. “Don’t you dare. This does not get tweeted. I thought _I_ was getting murdered tonight. My ankle still can’t bear weight, it’s not like I could run for my life.”

“I told you we should have called,” Jack scolds as he wraps himself up behind Bitty, kissing the back of his neck.

Kent harumphs, but kicks the dildo to the edge of the bed. “Whatever, we won’t need that tonight. Or like ever. I don’t think I can ever use that again.”

Bitty laughs so hard he snorts, and turns to Jack for a proper kiss hello.

“Happy Birthday, Bits,” Jack whispers.

“Thanks. I always wanted a heart attack before thirty.” He smiles and kisses Jack over and over until Kent gets annoyed by the lack of attention, and drags Bitty back. “Really, this is…” He stops, because he remembers what a shit day it was. How he was feeling, how the emotions are still festering in the pit of his stomach. How he’d been sat on the sofa for half the evening wishing there was some way he could have his boys home and knowing it wasn’t possible. Except it was.

He didn’t realise his eyes were filling with tears until Kent swipes his thumb under Bitty’s left eye. “Hey. Fuck, did we really scare you that bad?”

Bitty shakes his head, lets Jack hook an arm round his waist to octopus around him. “No it’s…something happened today. Family shit,” he clarifies when Kent frowns.

“Oh fuck. Babe…”

“Nothing to be done about it, everyone’s okay. Just a bad conversation with someone,” Bitty says. “Can we not talk about it now?”

“Of course,” Jack mutters. He sounds as tired as Bitty feels right now, and Bitty’s shoulders go relaxed as Jack’s face fits perfect in the crook of his neck—like it belongs there always. “Sleep?”

“Is that okay?” Bitty asks. “I mean, unless you were hopin’ for…more.”

“You got the dildo out, not us,” Kent chirps, but lighter this time, dragging the backs of his knuckles down Bitty’s cheek sweetly. “I really am sorry. I should have known better.”

Bitty shakes his head. “Baby. It’s okay, I swear. I appreciate you two more than I can say, alright? I was startled, but this is all I wanted.”

Kent hums, then shuffles forward until Bitty’s sandwiched between them both, tight and safe, and so warm and loved. He drags several, pecking kisses across Bitty’s nose and chin. “You sure?”

“All I thought about today was havin’ you two here, and now…” Bitty punctuates his words with a yawn. “Now, here you are. This is good. This is perfect.”

He closes his eyes and feels Kent’s smile in the next few kisses, then the breathing on either side of him starts to even out. He was tired before, and he’s tired now, but it’s a different sort. It’s contented and safe and it’s everything. He finds someone’s fingers with one hand, the other digging into someone else’s hair. His heart is beating soft.

It’s still his birthday, for a few more minutes, and he realises that wishes really do come true.


End file.
